


All good things...

by fromthedeskoftheraven



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Battle of Five Armies Fix-It, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6034936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthedeskoftheraven/pseuds/fromthedeskoftheraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chapter 25 of the Mapmaker Series. A human woman joins the company of Thorin Oakenshield on the quest to Erebor as a mapmaker and finds a lifelong love.</p>
<p>The mapmaker's journey has come to an end, and Thorin and his children attend a special celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All good things...

It was a beautiful afternoon in the Shire, not that Bilbo noticed. He was fussing about the study in his hobbit hole, tidying his books and papers, thinking of what remained to be done for the party, occasionally calling for Frodo to help with a task he’d suddenly remembered. 

Thus occupied indoors, he entirely missed seeing the small entourage of dwarves coming up the path toward Bag End. His attention was drawn to their arrival only when Frodo burst breathlessly into the room, his wide blue eyes smiling, calling, “Bilbo! They’re here!”

Bilbo steadied himself, carefully putting a stack of parchments down on the desk. He eagerly followed Frodo into the front hall, nearly running smack into Bofur walking in the front door. “Bilbo!” Bofur exclaimed, throwing his arms around the hobbit in greeting. 

“Bofur, bless my soul! How good to see you,” Bilbo said, memories flooding back at the sight of that cheeky grin. “And Bifur, as well! Welcome,” he said to the dwarf who saluted him with a few cheerful phrases in Khuzdul. 

Bilbo instantly recognized the broad-chested, golden-haired dwarf with a braided mustache and a regal air. “Fili, look at you,” he said, shaking his head in wonderment, “you’re all grown up.” 

“It’s good to see you, Bilbo,” Fili smiled. “Kili was sorry not to come – his ninth child has likely been born as we traveled – but he particularly bade me give his best regards to Mr. Boggins,” he said with a wink. 

Bilbo laughed delightedly and turned to see Nori, his hair still worn in the same three-pointed style, though it was threaded with gray now. Nori greeted him with a hug, and Bilbo teased the wily dwarf about keeping an eye on him around the silverware.

Dwalin seemed to fill the doorway, grasping Bilbo by the shoulders and surveying him with a grin before knocking his forehead against the hobbit’s, much more gently than he would have done with his fellow dwarves, but still enough to make Bilbo nearly see stars.

Last of all, still walking up the narrow pathway to the door, was Thorin. It was strange for Bilbo to think of Thorin as an old man, and yet he was forced to admit, upon reflection, that they were both old men now. Though Thorin’s mane of hair bore as many strands of gray as brown, and the furrows in his brow were deeper, his blue eyes were still sharp and steely, and his step was firm. He was flanked by three young men, all taller than he, but all bearing unmistakable resemblance to him in their own ways, and a lad who appeared to be an adolescent, though Bilbo knew he would be much older in years. Walking beside Thorin, her arm linked with his, was a young woman, the sight of whom made Bilbo catch his breath.

They approached the hobbit hole and entered the hall, and Thorin stood face to face with Bilbo, looking him up and down. At last, he chuckled, and embraced the hobbit, saying, “it is good to see you, my friend. Thank you for inviting us.”

“Thank you for coming,” Bilbo said warmly. “I am just so pleased that you all could be here.”

Thorin smiled, and turned to his companions. “Bilbo, these are my children…my sons, Frerin, Thrain, Vili, and Thror, and my daughter, Nessa.” The hobbit smiled and gave a little wave to each of the boys, but he took the girl’s hand in his and gazed at her face as though to study it. “I am very pleased to meet you, my dear,” he said, patting her hand, and a sweet smile lit her face.

“Thank you, Mr. Baggins. I am glad to meet you.”

The other dwarves were making themselves at home, stretching out on the settees and armchairs and perusing the pantry, and Bilbo turned to his nephew. “Frodo, perhaps you’d like to show the other young people how the party preparations are coming along,” he suggested.

“Certainly,” Frodo agreed, with a friendly smile, “Gandalf will be here soon with the fireworks. Come right this way.” He led Thorin’s sons and daughter down the path toward the road as Thorin and Bilbo stood at the door.

“Nessa is the very image of her mother,” Bilbo said, in a tone of quiet amazement, when they had gone. “It’s like turning back time.” Thorin nodded, with a wistful smile, watching his daughter walk with her younger brother talking animatedly to her. Bilbo paused, and cleared his throat. “I was so sorry to hear about her…I was always very fond of her.”

“The fondness was mutual,” Thorin assured him. He was quiet for a long moment before turning to Bilbo. “We always knew it would be this way…the span of a human life might be measured in a dwarf’s youth,” he said, shaking his head, “but I was not ready. I could never have been ready,” he amended. “Nearly sixty years she was mine, and it seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.” 

“She gave you a lovely family,” Bilbo offered.

“They are my greatest comfort and joy.” His face was brightened by a proud smile. “And, human though she was, I have every hope that when I pass to the Halls of Mandos, I will find that hers is the first face I shall see.” 

“No doubt,” Bilbo nodded solemnly.

“And you, how have you fared all these years?” Thorin asked, after a moment’s silence. “I understand you are bringing up your nephew.”

“Oh, yes, very well, very well,” Bilbo smiled. “Frodo is a good lad, and a great help to me. I have been very content.”

Thorin returned his smile. “I am glad.”

Bilbo craned his neck to look down the hall. “Well…won’t you come in to the sitting room? I’ll put the kettle on, and I see they’ve found the cakes already.” With a wry chuckle, Thorin followed him into the house.

Bilbo’s birthday party was a great success, attended by nearly the entire population of Hobbiton, not to mention those who came from the surrounding towns. Gandalf’s fireworks lit the sky with glittering colors, merry music played, and an abundance of food weighed down the long tables. 

As the night wore on, Thorin found a seat on a bench that afforded him a good view of the festivities, and from there he watched his three elder sons talking and laughing with Frodo and his friends, while Thror stood beside them, listening to their conversation. Nessa stepped and twirled gracefully among the dancers with her cousin Fili, taking turns with the hobbits as well, learning the exuberant country dances of the Shire. It warmed him to see his children light of heart, and a smile played about his lips as he looked on.

It was in these moments of contentment that Thorin’s thoughts invariably turned to his beloved, and the cold silence of the new tomb where he had laid her among the kings and queens of ages past.  _Oh, amrâlimê…if you could only see this, see them_. 

Her words echoed in his mind, words spoken to him when she had been so frail at the end. “Be happy, Thorin. Please be happy. Promise me that you will. Take joy in the life we built, even when I am gone from it.”

He blinked back the tears that pricked his eyes as Nessa came to sit beside him. She was breathless and rosy-cheeked, and so beautiful, just like the woman who would always be the love of his life. “It is a wonderful party,” she smiled, patting loose strands of her hair back into place. “The hobbits are so kind. I am glad we came, aren’t you?” 

“Very glad, sweetheart,” he said fondly.

She lay a gentle hand on his arm, looking into his eyes with loving concern. “Are you well, Adad?” Her voice was soft and compassionate. He smiled, and clasped her hand reassuringly.

_I promise, amrâlimê._

“Yes, my darling,” he answered. “I am happy.”


End file.
